Sorbet Buio, over the course of his life, had learned to be methodical, being thorough, organized, and focused. It ensured a higher chance to get what one wanted. Being sloppy had been in the same vein as a cardinal sin growing up. His father loathed it with a passion. Winging it could only get someone so far in this world. Very few made it in this world with no direct plan. Getting anywhere, required work, devotion, and drive. The unfortunate thing was that, he was included in his father's plans. He was a part of their family line, and he would continue on in their family name. As such, he couldn't deviate from the image his father had of their linage. He too, had to become a successful professor in a big college.

All while growing up, Sorbet accepted his father's dogma. He knew nothing else. Time at home was his study time. Any free time was considered pointless. Anything lower than A's earned lectures on how lazy he was, how he wasn't trying hard enough. Even then, anything but A+'s was greeted with barely passible. Slowly and steadily, resentment boiled underneath Sorbet's reserved surface. Emotion was another thing Sorbet learned to suppress, anything ill-fitted of a well-adjusted, refined, man was scorned from not only his father but mother as well. By the time of his high school years, Sorbet had well-learned the art of keeping his emotions measured and controlled. To the point, he wondered inwardly if he could even feel emotions like a normal person. Or, had it been scrubbed clean from him by his parents?

To his teachers, Sorbet was a model student. Prim and perfect in every way. He made honor roll whenever possible. This earned him the ire of students who loathed over achievers or "teacher pets" over the years. By his teens, Sorbet had learned to barely respond to them. They were insecure enough as it was, no need for him to add fuel to the fire with scathing comments. One particular thing that was a target for his harassers was his lack of a girlfriend…which resulted in their favorite insults towards about his sexuality. Sorbet didn't understand their fixation with who he didn't or did sleep with, much less their societies.'

When this was brought to the attention of his parent's, by way of the principal; because of Sorbet's locker getting graffitied with slurs, Sorbet expected it'd be handled by the school and it was. Once he got home; however, his father questioned: Why didn't he have a girlfriend? Why hadn't he ever even mentioned a girl? Sorbet, had expected this, he'd seen his father side-eyeing him the entire meeting. Of course, he'd say nothing in front of the principal. It'd be ill-fitting for his perfect son to be a sexual deviant. Sorbet answered honestly, "I haven't found anyone that's caught my attention."

His father answered him coldly, "You'd better find someone soon. I won't stand such filthy rumors attached to our family."

Those words fully sprouted the seeds of resentment in Sorbet. While he continued to act out the role he'd been assigned to play, choosing a girl he'd noted displayed interest in him prior, while working towards finishing high school. Once he was out, he'd attended a university farthest from his family. One that was less favored by his father, just to slightly spite him. Once there, he'd choose something he wanted to be, a school teacher. Not a professor. To him, it was far more fruitful to mold younger minds, than ones that were already set, and in such a large, impersonal room. Though, mostly, it was to spite the image of his father, he admitted that to himself. The grand ideal set out for him had become more and more jaded by the years. Anything but that had become far more appealing.

University opened a wellspring of relief, the distance between him and his main family granted him a new sense of space. He didn't slack in his work, no, he did agree with his father on that much. He worked diligently towards his goal, while giving minimal responses to any form of communication his parent sent his way. His "girlfriend" was left behind, their break up had been uneventful. There'd been nothing to begin with. Romance returned to being an unappealing idea to him, work remained his only partner.

That was until, he walked into his life.

This, wild-eyed, blond who'd approached him one day during a coffee break at a café he'd frequented. Coffee had largely been his second addiction aside from work. He'd seen the blond at times while on campus, though never shared a class. He had no clue why he sat himself at his table, but there was clear interest in his eyes. That much was evident.

"You're awfully studious, hm?" He mused, a Cheshire cat-like, smirk curled on his lips. He laughed lightly, "I don't think I've ever seen you not working."

Sorbet hardly gave him a glance before returning to his notes, he had a lengthy report to write and no time for distractions, "And why does that interest you?"

"Because you, interest me." There was something in his tone, his inflection, that caused a pause from Sorbet. He looked up at this stranger, who looked at him with intent. Intent for what, he couldn't quite tell. No, there was vague similarity. The girlfriend, fleetingly, but not this apparent, nor wild.

"And why is that?" He may as well prod, his attention was had.

The blond laughed coyly, "Ever since I first saw you- I haven't been able to get you out of my head." He laughed again, "Cheesy right? But true, I assure." The way his eyes were pinned on him, held Sorbet's gaze. A flippant wave of his hands, "So." He clicked, "I decided to jump in and chat."

Sorbet looked at him, he couldn't explain why, but he was intrigued. The way this man just went for something on the spur of the moment, was…refreshing. He looked at the work before him, he was ahead, he could spare time for a chat. He turned his eyes back to the man, "Alright. You've caught my attention…"

"Gelato Biondo."

This, one off, conversation unexpectedly turned into something more. Sorbet found Gelato's more lively and wilder personality equally, if not more, intriguing than Gelato did his. Even his more hostile moments, he displayed towards others. He'd not readily been able to display his disdain for others, he admired it in a way. Which, lead him to realize, that this blond was: dangerous. Sorbet noticed the shady individuals Gelato occasionally had to step away to talk to. He didn't remark on this as he felt it was none of his business. In spite of the danger, he felt unphased, he wanted to continue to interact with Gelato. Not because he didn't feel nothing toward it, no, he felt something he hadn't before and that was what intrigued him.

"What do you want from me, Gelato?" He asked on day.

Gelato blinked in surprise, before touching the side of his face, "Isn't that obvious by now? You."

In hindsight, it really should've been obvious. The mutual attraction. Everything clicked at that moment and that night, they first slept together.

Form that day on, the two hardly went a day without seeing each other. They kept things, discreet as possible, mentioning nothing about being together. It was difficult at times and Gelato got frustrated with having to keep it between the two of them, but with Sorbet's perspective job career, they did. Their sort of attract was…taboo, to say the least.

Apparently, they hadn't been discreet enough. One day, upon heading to a class, Sorbet noticed something, different in the air. What had had been an air of stoic education, became tense. Palpably so. Looks were tossed his way and whispers were made. While odd, Sorbet ignored it, focusing on his work, which lead him to notice something more impactful. His assignments, and work was being marked, wrong. Some more discreet, others more blatantly erroneous marks. It led to his GPA to slip. He took it up with the professor responsible and instead of correction he got, "perhaps your type aren't cut out for this field."

The way it was said, struck him.

A sneer.

Venom laced and scathing.

Sorbet seized up and bristled. He aimed at his orientation or not, he stormed out of the office, furious. He aimed to leave, only to find his car vandalized, windshield busted and tires, all four, sliced. It was enough of a shock for him to stand stock still. Mind coming to a screeching halt. Which left him open to the coming strike to the back of his head.

To this day, Sorbet doesn't know how many there was. Or who any of them were. All he knows, for certain, was that he was knocked, face first, onto the ground. Beaten while he was down, for some manner of time. Primarily he was stomped down on and various slurs thrown at him any and all that could be directed at him for his attraction towards men. Half-way through he was grabbed by his arms and hoisted up enough to get used as a sandbag. Eventually, he was left to slump onto the ground. Spat at. Cursed out, how he didn't belong at their school, and left to lay crumpled on the ground.

It was, Gelato, of course, who found him. How he screamed. That primal, scream of terror. The fear of losing a loved one, someone so intimate with him, it was engrained into his very soul. A nightmare made real. He ran to him. Sorbet clearly recalled twelve hurried, frantic, footfalls in quick succession. Then his arms clasping around him, turning him over in his dazed state, begging, pleading, to him- or whatever power may be, that he wasn't dead.

"Sorbet! No, no, no, please be okay. Please, don't be dead- anything but that. Please! Please!" His words got more frantic, shrieked with sheer fear.

"Gelato…?" He'd croaked. Certain it was his love's voice, but in his state he wasn't sure if what his senses were taking in could even be real at this point. He felt tears fall onto to his face like rain. Gelato was crying. Arm, sore and beaten, he tried to reach up and reassure him but his vision was too blurred and his body too weary to properly do so. He didn't have to. Gelato caught his hand and put it to his own, to reassure him. So, he could feel him.

"Oh, thank god, you're alive! I thought you…" Relief sudden spiked to white hot fury, "Whoever did this, I swear- I swear I'll kill them!"

Sorbet passed out after that. After he woke up, he was in Gelato's home. That'd been the first time he'd been to his house, but the blond's presence at his side eased any possible concerns. In spite of this, in spite of the care, Sorbet internally stewed. What his professor had said, followed by his attack. There couldn't have been coincidence…it lined up far too well. The message had been sent. Sorbet, he'd drop out from college, but not because he was scared off, oh no, there'd be an entirely different reason.

His internal stewing hatred didn't go unnoticed. "What's been on your mind?" Gelato asked one day.

And so, he told him, "I know who did this to me."

A certain, cold, calmness overcame Gelato's face. One he'd become more used to and acquainted with later on. He put a hand over Sorbet's, pulling his attention to him. "Just tell me who did it."

"I don't want you to take the fall for my revenge." Sorbet answered sternly, taking hold of his hand.

Gelato laughed softly, cover his hand with his other, "Dear, I know that you know what my family is involved with." Leaning in, he put his forehead to his, softly assuring, "But, if it'll make you feel better. I'll hire someone. Okay?"

"Do it."

Sorbet's professor was found dead in his home. Gunshot to the head. With Sorbet having been beaten and away from the campus, he had a solid alibi in his recovery. At the end of the semester, he quit college. Effectively ending his relationship with his family. Which was fine. Sorbet hardly felt anything for them severing themselves from his life. He instead involved himself in his love's life, becoming a hitman, or rather helping Gelato locate his targets. He wasn't one for the messiness of the task. Neat and orderly was more his style and he did so love digging up information.

Eventually, Passione came into being and the small gang Gelato's family disbanded all but overnight. Gelato…on the other hand, saw this as opportunity to join up with a big up and comer instead of being stuck scrounging around for scraps like his family had been. And so, they did. Upon joining, gaining their stands in the process, they graduated to being hitmen for Passione. His own stand, allowing Sorbet to take a more proactive part his love's work.

Unfortunately, there was always a catch to everything. Their relationship wasn't very accepted by their teammates, causing Gelato to nearly knife several individuals and Sorbet to restrain himself from doing so. For their own good. If he killed anyone of importance their necks would be next on the chopping block, after all. As it was, the only thing keeping them from being on the thin ice they should've been on was their skill. The same skill that landed them positions on the La Sqaudra di Esecuzione. A day that went down in their memory as a grand milestone in their memories.

"Finally, we've gained recognition for our skill!" Gelato chittered as he sat back in the booth they'd been messaged to sit in. The booth where they were to meet their squadron leader. Recalling this, Gelato perched his chin on the palm of his hand, "Although, what's this about our "Leader" being a new guy? Tch, that's not how things are supposed to work. Last I recalled. What about seniority?"

"Maybe it due to your habit of knifing our previous superiors." Sorbet noted dully with a sip of his drink.

"Maybe if they minded their own business," Gelato hissed. He huffed, continuing simply, "I wouldn't have them hold my knife."

Sorbet merely hummed, "Mhm…" He sighed, knowing it'd be difficult to keep his partner's hair trigger capped at all times. And so, he reminded, "Just be on you best behavior. For me, if you will. We can't waste this opportunity."

A dramatically wistful sigh, "I'll try."

For what it was worth, Sorbet took him at his word. The two idled for a while, speaking casually as they minded their drinks. Before their food could arrive the door to the small restaurant opened. The one that walked in, quickly caught Sorbet's attention. Enough that it subsequently caught Gelato's. Without looking, he asked, "He here?"

"I believe so." Sorbet affirmed. He had a way with reading people. As such, Gelato took his word for it or even bother to look for himself to weigh-in his own thoughts. The sound of footsteps headed their way was enough for him. The large block that sat with them was- a bit of surprise, he didn't look like some fresh flunky plucked off the streets like Gelato had thought.

"Sorbet and Gelato, I presume?" His voice reminded him of Sorbet's in its collected evenness, just deeper. He had nothing on his Sorbet though. Too large for his tastes.

"That's correct." Sorbet answered.

The man introduced himself, "I'm Risotto Nero. We've been assigned to work with one another, on this project."

With the way it began, the situation felt like an interview of sort. Oddly professional, Gelato felt but, he could see his Sorbet was intrigued by this in the way he knitted his hands together on the table, posture slightly leaned forward. Gelato said nothing, to be on his best behavior of course, and to see this play out.

"We have been." Sorbet responded, before adding, "I'm sure you can understand our…misgivings about working with someone who only recently joined our company."

From what Gelato could see, Risotto showed not a hint of agitation towards the remark, and continued, "Understandable. The position offered to me, was unexpected, to say the least, but not one I could turn away either." Sorbet nodded. It take someone arrogant or foolish to turn such an offer away. Risotto continued, "While I am confident in my abilities, I am willing to turn to the both of you for expertise in the workings of our company." This, caught both the pair's attention. It wasn't what they'd expected from this meeting. Sorbet was particularly intrigued. At the very least, this Risotto Nero was a good talker. "If you're willing to continue, I'd like to discuss our first assignment."

Sorbet looked to Gelato, who was carefully eyeing their would-be leader. After a moment's silence, the blond propped the side of his face on his hand. His response was casual, "We did come here for that, might as well."

"Continue." Sorbet, more professionally, affirmed.

Risotto Nero, nodded.

From then on, the duo worked under Risotto Nero. He'd kept his word on being respectful towards his senior member's, considering whatever information they gave him. Sorbet was impressed by his professionalism, while Gelato was more so impressed by his efficiency in handling his own marks- considering him an artisan of sorts. Ultimately, they formed the foundation of La Squadra, but even still, the two kept their intimate relationship under wraps. To avoid shaking the boat of their new working relationship, as it became readily apparent that Risotto's Metallica could easily overpower both their stands. However, it didn't stay that way for too long…

The cat came out of the metaphorical bag one day, when the two thought they had arrived early enough at their meeting place, a hang out in a remote warehouse. Even still they had enough discretion to at least start their make-out in a supplies closet. Either they'd lost track of time in the heat of the moment, or Risotto had arrived earlier than expected. Or both. All they knew was suddenly the door opened, and the two froze-up at the sight of their leader…standing there.

For a good moment, the three just stared at each other. Risotto's expression was non-descript as always. Gelato was about to fire a defensive remark when,

"I see I'm interrupting. When the two of you are done, I'll be waiting to give you your assignment." And at that, Risotto walked away.

Once they'd readjusted themselves, Gelato and Sorbet went to the makeshift office, that'd been their meeting spot at the time. Risotto, was sat at a table, seeming to be going over the latest mission briefing. He looked up at them for moment, no comment about what he'd seen and got right into their assignment. As he said he would. Before he could get into much detail, Gelato cut him off, "Wait. Wait, you…have nothing, nothing at all to say? About what you saw- us, in the middle off?"

Risotto remained unphased, "What you do with one another, is none of my concern. So long as it doesn't interfere with your work, it'll remain that way." He looked back to the mission statement, "Unless there's any concerns, can I resume the debriefing?"

"Yes sir, leader." That was first time Gelato and referred to Risotto as such.